In Loco Parentis
by Antigone2
Summary: "In Place of Parents". Her name is Shizune Arima, Souichiro calls her "Mother". This is her story.
1. Default Chapter

Author's note:

I love Kareshi Kanojo no Jijo. It's my favorite anime, and one of my favorite manga. I'm in love with all the characters and all their neuroses. Please forgive my use of them, and the non-canon quality of my story. The recent events in the manga have made me take another look at a bit character; a woman who is having her life turned upside down just as Souichiro is. So here you have it: Arima-mama's story.

Thank you to: Annie. ^_^ You are the best, girl. 

I don't know if hospitals are for-profit in Japan like they can be here in the US, but if Arima is so rich, they must be right? Everything else is medically correct, I should know, I watch ER. ^_~

Disclaimer: Unlike Yukino, I have no desire to get-rich-quick and if I did, it wouldn't be through fic. Read: I make no money from this, it's all for fun. ^_~ Gainax are otaku. They understand.

**In Loco Parentis** by Antigone

When I met Souji it was my first marriage-meeting, and his seventh. My mother came home from the hospital, still in her immaculate white nurse's uniform, glowing the dark of the kitchen. I offered her a bowl of green tea over rice, sitting in the doorway on my knees as if I was a wife already. My father died when I was twelve, and the money from mother's nursing job put food on the table, so I kept house.

She was happy, all aflutter telling me about the meeting she arranged, with the hospital president's son no less! Apparently my mother caught the eye of the boss with her gentle disposition, and he would come and talk to her. He mentioned none of the women he tried to introduce to his son made much of an impression. At twenty-six, his son was getting on in years and needed a wife. And a child.

I was just twenty. In those days, a few bold women were going to top schools, with ambition I never could have. I was happy at home with my brothers and my books, never dreamed of much more.

 When I first heard about the marriage-meeting, my heart drummed in my chest and I protested to the best of my ability. "Mother, you need me here," I said, but I knew it was no use. My mother wasn't looking at the urgency in my eyes, but wondering if their unusually dark color would entice the Arima son into marriage. I knew it had to happen eventually, but like any young girl, I was afraid to leave what I knew. I was afraid to leave home, to be come a wife, terrified to become a mother. I did not desire that tired look that framed my mother's eyes. I comforted myself that if Souji had turned down seven girls, he would never see anything in me. I agreed to the meeting.

So I found myself at tea shop, wrapping my hands around a tea cup when I first saw my future husband. He didn't see me right away, so I got to watch him quietly as he greeted old Yamashita-san, the owner of the shop, and ordered some tea. He ran a hand through immaculate black hair, smiled as he said something. Arima Souji, I thought in my mind. 

He was slim, and handsome, but there was an air around the way he walked, the way he bowed… like my mother, almost. He was tired, too.

When Arima-san saw me, he smiled politely and I bowed as best I could while sitting.

"Moridou Shizune-san," he said, sitting across from me. His eyes were warm, and I smiled into them. My mother spent all morning sweeping my thick hair into a knot at the back of my neck, all yesterday picking out my clothes. 

But Arima Souji just looked into the dark color of my eyes. 

He didn't turn down a second meeting. And, to my own surprise, I didn't either.

~~

My wedding day was not a happy one. My youngest brother, nine year-old Hiroshi, fell very sick the week before and was rushed to the very hospital the Arimas owned. It was tense as Souji informed me they were doing everything they could for him, but the outlook didn't look good. Was I to marry into a family that couldn't save my own baby brother?

I never knew if it was just the pressure of time that made Souji decide to marry me. It was more puzzling what made me agree to him. And while his parents were delighted with my passive nature and sweet demeanor, the rest of the family treated me a little coldly. I had wondered if I had imagined it, when Souji formally introduced me to his relatives. After all, the upper class were known for being more aloof than the daughter of a local merchant, right?

"So tell me, Moridou-san, what is it your father does?" We were seated at a huge dinner in which it seemed every Arima in the prefecture came to judge each other. I felt faint to think in less than two weeks I'd join this family. The woman who asked the question was severe looking, and made me nervous. 

"My father passed away nine years ago," I said softly, ducking my head as appropriate. Nine years ago, when Hiroshi was born… the thought of my brother brought tears to my eyes and I quickly excused myself from the table.

I was gulping air just outside to keep from sobbing when I heard her voice. She must have known I could hear her, yet she didn't seem to care.

"I never would have thought it. I thought Souji was the good brother, not like that delinquent Reiji. Yet, Souji doesn't seem to have much taste, does he now?"

"Shizune-san," a gentle voice said at my ear, "are you alright?" It was Souji, looking at me with his warm brown eyes. 

The moon was rising and I could hear an owl call. I felt ashamed I had not returned to the meal, but how could I? The hall was silent now, the huge house next to empty. All the relatives left thinking me a hick, and a deserter. 

"I am thinking of my brother," I said truthfully to Souji. He sighed, and put his hands on my shoulders, and ran his hands down my arms. Blood rushed to my face. He had not touched me so intimately before. His palms were warm, and I realized I was shivering in the cool evening air.

"I'm sorry for my aunt's behavior," he said softly. 

"Are all of your family this mean spirited?" the bitter words left my lips before I could stop them. He was silent, and I instantly felt horrible.

"I'm sor-," I turned and realized he wasn't hurt. He looked… guilty.

"Sometimes," he said, under his breath. I felt guilty bringing up a painful subject. 

"Souji," his first name, like my earlier remark, escaped me before I could stop it. I was to learn that Souji would have this effect on me. I did not watch what I said around him. 

At the sound of my saying his name, his hands tightened around my wrists, just slightly. Souji's heart was pounding against my back, and I wondered if maybe it wasn't just time that made him chose me.

My mind was still mostly on Hiroshi, and on what that horrible woman had said, and that's what made me ask the next question.

"Souji, do you have any brothers and sisters?

A sharp intake of breath was my only answer. And I was not to meet Reiji until our wedding.

       The woman who insulted me attended my wedding, and my youngest brother did not. Hiroshi was still alive, but barely. The doctors told my mother that his liver was damaged beyond repair by a fungus-- bad mushrooms. It seemed so horrible, so far-fetched, that something that simple could kill a little boy. My mother did not tell me this before my wedding.         

Yet I wonder, as I knelt next to Souji in my deep red kimono and drank the sake bonding me as an Arima forever, if my mother blamed me for Hiroshi. I wonder if she thought I was responsible for the sickness of a boy who called me "ma ma", by feeding him the bad food that eventually killed him. I wonder now if she had lived, would she have said what happened later was fate punishing me? 

~~

After the ceremony, I gripped Souji's hand tightly as we received congratulations from the family. He said everything that was expected with complete fluency and manners, and I trembled in silence. The Arima family was probably tremendously pleased with my performance as the beautiful, docile woman, and I took minor comfort in that.

I was bowing deeply to one of the elders of the Arima family, when the roaring sound of a motorbike made me snap my head up. I couldn't believe what I was seeing, as that noisy, flashy vehicle drove right up on temple grounds! Next to me Souji tensed, and the elders gasped. My brother Jun watched in wide-eyed awe.

The man on the bike took of his helmet and shook out shoulder length black hair. He regarded my new husband arrogantly, smirking. He resembled Souji enough for me to know they were brothers, but his demeanor was so different I could not have believed it. 

"Congrats, brother dear," he said, brown eyes sweeping me up and down, "nice broad."

"Get out of here, Reiji!" Souji's father said firmly, "this is Souji's day."

The man rolled his eyes, "It's always Souji's day to you, old man."

Souji's mother just watched her son with tear-filled eyes, not saying a word. For some reason I honed into her every reaction to him. Almost as if I was preparing to be a mother, to be faced with my son scorning his family as Reiji did then.

Reiji's face was delicately handsome, and contrasted so much with his mannerisms. I hardly dared to glance at him; he scared me so, but I remember his face. I hated that face, hated this man who challenged my husband and looked at me with that arrogant sneer. 

The occurrence with Reiji, along with concern for my brother, clouded my mind as Souji tried to talk to me on the airplane. It wasn't tradition to go on a honeymoon, but Souji and his parents were rich, and it was a tradition to show off as tactfully as humanly possible. I suppose sending the newlywed couple off to Seoul was a nice way to accomplish that. 

I did not forget any of my troubles until Souji shyly lead me into our room at the inn in Korea. I realized with horror I had completely forgotten to be nervous about my wedding night. Souji had only kissed me before, and I knew a twenty-six year old knew much more about what occurred behind closed doors than I did. Souji's eyes were regarding me with a hunger that made me feel a strange sort of terror… a terror I did not want to run from. And the kindness was still there, so I couldn't really be afraid.

We did not see much of Seoul while we were there, but I think that's never the point of honeymoons. By the end of the week, I was not afraid of him anymore, and there was no more pain. I desired him as much as he was me, although I never let on. I was demure, I was sweet, I was mothering; I was the perfect wife.

~~

When I found out I was pregnant I was ecstatic. Souji and I had been married for a year and a half, and lived all by ourselves in a cavernous house that once belonged to his parents. Souji took over the hospital after his father retired moved with his mother to a lovely plot of land in Hokkaido. I joked to him that his parents were living everyone's pipe dream, and he smiled and told me to hush.

Busy as he was, I hardly saw my husband. He came home late at night, and if we made love, I was half asleep in the darkness of our bedroom. I left him rice and tea for his late nights. When we became husband and wife, Souji gave up his favorite food since I would never eat or serve mushrooms. Although we were apart for most of the time, I came to know Souji in a way strangely intimate to me.

I could smell the subtle differences of his scents, when he wore aftershave on weekends, when he'd worked all day among the medicinal smells of the hospital, when he had been drinking with his co-workers. I could picture the exact way he rubbed the bridge of his nose when he was frustrated with something, the way he adjusted his glasses with his index finger, the way he always misbuttoned his shirt. I found that when he was gone for long periods of time I missed him. I found I was happy when he was, worried when he was. I found I loved his kiss, his touch, but most of all his smile.

Like what happens in most arranged marriages, I discovered I was in love with my husband well after the wedding. And the pregnancy test I purchased at the local convenience store confirmed the truth: I was pregnant. 

So, I suddenly found myself bursting with that bizarre emotion called love. For my unborn child, for my husband, for my brother, Jun, who wrote to say he was getting married soon as well. 

This happened at the time of a very big expansion project the hospital was going through, and Souji was rarely around. When he was, he was tense and hard to talk to. I spent many nights on my knees, throwing up in the toilet while my marriage bed remained made and empty.

I figured after about a month and a half that Souji should know no matter what, so I made myself stay awake until he shuffled in the door at midnight one night in May.

"Welcome home." I greeted him with rice and tea, and smiled.

He looked tired, so tired, and I smelled no sake. He had truly been working all this time.

"Shizune," he surprised me by kissing my cheek, "Have you waited up all this time?"

I nodded, "Yes, Souji, we have waited up for you." I used the plural for emphasis and the extra syllables did not escape him.

"We?" he repeated, eyeing me in the dim kitchen light. I nodded, biting my lip. I wondered what he was feeling. Would he be upset, even more stressed now that he knew he'd have a child? 

"Really, Shizune?"

Blushing, I nodded, "Yes. For about two months." He stood up from the table and walked over to where I knelt on the floor. In one movement he seized my forearms and lifted me until I stood in front of him. I met his eyes and laughed. He looked so happy! He twirled me in his arms until my protests became serious, and I had to rush to the restroom. It was a little less unpleasant with him there to rub my back while I dealt with morning sickness which plagued me at night, despite its name.

The baby brought Souji and I together like nothing ever had. He was so happy about his son (he was certain we would have a little boy-and I humored him by picking out a name already; Hiroshi, after my brother). Souji spent as much time as he could with me. He'd rush home after work instead of staying out with the other workers and drinking. He bought toys and mobiles and all these baby things at the hospital gift shop and brought them home. Then he'd set up the nursery, humming. I stood in the doorway and laughed at him. "Are you the woman now?" I teased, my hand on the tiny bulge in my stomach. Souji, as he does, merely smiled and told me to hush.

In my dream I was standing over Hiroshi's grave, telling him I was going to name my son after him, while the swelling of my stomach grew even as I watched. I smiled as I told my little brother the news of my baby. Then, to my surprise, a motorbike rode up right onto my brother's grave. In rage, I turned to confront the driver. To my shock, it was my husband's brother, and I remembered his face perfectly. He pointed at my still-growing stomach, screaming something I couldn't hear. My belly was so big now, too big. My back was aching horribly from the swelling. My back was aching… pain…

I woke with a start to pain wracking my lower body. I blurrily pulled myself out of my dreams, and into panic. It was dark as death outside, and Souji was fast asleep. I stumbled out of the bed to get a pain killer, and froze as I felt something warm on my legs. In the darkness I could still recognize the blood. The blood, it was everywhere, in the sheets, on my legs, on my hands… I think I choked out a name before I blacked out, whether it was Souji's or Hiroshi's I'll never know.

I awoke in Souji's hospital, with a woman in a white uniform standing over me. I thought it was my mother, coming home after work, and I think I said, "welcome home, Mother," before I realized where I was. The nurse smiled at me, with a look that spoke of pity and made me feel sick.

Souji was standing beside me, looking more tired than I'd ever seen him. "Souji?" my lips felt dry, and I felt… empty. It was such a horrible feeling, that I didn't even need to ask if I had lost our baby. My body was a shell, devoid of the life it once had. It's like dying. Like a piece of me dying. Once again, I was mourning for a Hiroshi, like my brother, my baby ripped from me. 

The doctors told me I might still be able to have children, but they also informed me of a growth on my uterus that was probably harmless to me, but had also probably caused the miscarriage. I was too heartbroken over Hiroshi to think about other children, and I tuned out their warnings. 

Souji was silent all the way home from the hospital the next evening, but he tucked me into bed like I was a child, bringing the blankets up to my chin and kneeling by the bedside, stroking back my hair.

"I'm sorry," I whispered to him in the darkness of our bedroom. I think he told me he loved me, I think that was the last thing he whispered before I fell asleep.

~~

Things were not the same after my miscarriage. Souji took apart the nursery while I was asleep that night, and never mentioned Hiroshi again, except to every so often enquire after my health. I shouldn't have named my baby so early. I shouldn't have named my baby, not after my brother. Not at all. I felt cold inside, which is why I think I never conceived after that. I know it's stupid for the wife of a doctor to think like this, but I truly believe, the coldness in my belly refused life.

Eventually Souji and I returned to normalcy, but we never became as close as we were those few months while I carried his child.

The coldness was still inside me, dormant, even three years later when Souji came home and asked me about our finances. I informed him that we were perfectly comfortable, and he responded that the hospital was also doing very well. There was a moment's pause and then he took a deep breath and brought up what had obviously been weighing on his mind.

"I heard from my brother today."

Surprise colored my expression, I'm sure, but all I said was, "Is that so?"

"He wants to join me in running the hospital," Souji said, lowering his eyes thoughtfully, "I wonder if he is serious this time."

I kept my opinions to myself. I hardly knew Reiji, after all, except what was said at the reunions. I had learned by then never to truly listen to what was said there, anyway.

"What are you going to do?" I asked, making it clear with the purposeful look in my eyes that if he asked, I'd tell him exactly what I thought. He always asked for advice from me before, and it felt like a slap in the face when Souji just shook his head and said he would sleep on it.

Eventually I had to sign the check Souji gave Reiji from our own account; money Souji assured me would indirectly be returned to us when Reiji used it to buy stock in the hospital. I just nodded.

After that it has hard not to have the worry in the back of my mind. The money wasn't all that much to us, truthfully, but Souji's faith in his brother was at stake and that was what kept me awake at night, going over and over the numbers and wondering what just wasn't adding up.

The phone rang while I was cutting up vegetables for dinner one night in August, while a terrible thunderstorm raged outside. 

"Hello, Arima residence," I answered and dropped the knife when I heard the voice on the other line.

"Arima-san? This is Officer Tanakawa of the police."

The…what?

"Y-yes. What is it?" 

"It has to do with your brother," the voice continued. Jun? I thought wildly, then he went on to say, "Arima Reiji. Could you please come down to the station as soon as possible?"

My mind was so stretched thin since he said the word 'brother' that my first reaction was "Arima who?" then it all hit home. Reiji. Oh, god our money was gone. The shares might be, too. And Souji… with a heavy heart I quickly jotted down the information the officer gave me and hung up the phone. Thunder rumbled outside my window.

After I paged Souji, I grabbed my purse and found myself waiting for his car at the end of our driveway in the pouring rain. I had no idea why I wanted to come along to the police station to bail out his brother or whatever it was, but I wanted to. I don't know if I was remembering Reiji from my dream before the miscarriage, or merely wanted to prove to my husband I could be as supportive a wife as possible. But when Souji arrived, I got into the car. I explained the circumstances on our way to the station, as we drove along among high winds and bright flashes of lightening, and the smell of wet pavement.

~~end part I

Please review! Be tactful, be honest, but above all let me know you read this!!


	2. Part 2

Author's notes:  This is the second part.  This is turning out to be a quite a long fic. ^^;  

**~In Loco Parentis~**

by Antigone 

Part II

     When we arrived at the police station, I got a terrible shock from seeing Souji's aunt standing at the door. The woman looked even more severe with age, and she fixed Souji with a look of utter rage.

     "I cannot believe this, Souji.  Have you no judge of character?"  she snapped, and I sent a confused look to my husband.  He had not looked surprised to see her there at all.

     "Obviously not," he said, softly, the tired look about his eyes again.

     "I gave that man a loan on good faith from you, Souji, and now it's gone, along with quite a few thousand* more, and now-"

     Souji sighed, his shoulders slumped, "I know, Kaede, and I'm sorry.  You will get your money, I promise you."

     I knew even without his glance at me that we would be covering Reiji's actions.  

     "Well, I notified the police of the robbery, but it seems your dear brother has disappeared," she raised an eyebrow and sniffed. "Leaving not a penny of the money."

     Souji apologized properly, bowing low.  But I alone saw the tensing of his shoulders.

     "However, I'll leave you to deal with what he did leave behind."  I gave a confused look at her retreating back, while Souji talked quietly to the officer who had come to greet us.

     For a moment the rain and the way the lightening danced off the walls hypnotized me, and I almost didn't hear Souji softly calling my name.

     "Shizune."

     "Yes?" I turned and saw his sad, tired eyes.

     "There is more."

~~

     The child couldn't have been more than six.  He was huddled in a corner of the social worker's room at the back of the station, trembling with the aftershocks of intense sobbing.

     "Oh god," I whispered, grasping Souji's arm as if for support, "he's not-"

     Souji swallowed, his eyes intensely focused on the child as well.  "Reiji named him Souichiro. He's almost five years old."

     My hand flew to my mouth, and my gasp drew the attention of little Souichiro.  Red-rimmed, solemn eyes regarded me from behind a fringe of dark hair; little hands clutched the blanket closer around him. In five years Reiji never mentioned he had a son, not once.  I saw from Souji's face, his brother did not know either.

     "Mr. and Mrs. Arima, may I speak with you for a moment," the officer said, and he gently took our arms and guided us out of the room. I found it hard to break Souichiro's gaze.

     "We can send him to a shelter, but we need to find one with an available bed.  It would best if you took him home tonight, and we can discuss more options in the morning."

     We agreed immediately to take Souichiro home with us that night.  The social worker knelt until she was eye-level with the boy and murmured something to him.  He looked up at us, and I saw his left cheek was swollen and red, and his forehead was bruised.

     I found I couldn't speak, but I offered a shaky smile. He eyed me with wide, frightened eyes. Souji and I led him into the car, and as I buckled Souichiro into the backseat, I noticed he was still violently trembling.  Every time the thunder crashed across the sky a jolt ran through his body.  I think my heart broke about four times over on the ride home.

     Souichiro wouldn't let go of the blanket he was wrapped in, so we let him take it to bed with him.  I had a large nightshirt of Souji's to dress the boy in, but to my shame I couldn't bring myself to help him get into it.  It hurt me to watch him flinch away from every movement I made toward him.  He huddled, looking so incredibly small in our huge guest bed.  

     "Good night," I whispered to him, leaving the door open a little as I went to join Souji.

     Souji was sitting at the kitchen table, his elbows leaning on the table, head bent down to rest on his wrists.  He looked defeated, hurt, and exhausted.  For the first time, I noticed Souji's face was lined, he was aging so much for only being thirty two years old.

     "Souji," I said softly, and he turned his head to look at me.  Tears filled my eyes despite myself.  "God, Souji, what did they do to that little boy?"  My voice broke, and I stopped. Souji did not need to see me cry.

     Suddenly we heard a thump from across the hallway.  Souji and I both rushed to where Souichiro was sleeping, and the door swung wide, sending a shaft light into the room.  The bed was empty.

     I felt something akin to panic, and hurried into the room, pushing the door to crash into the wall.  The sound made Souichiro whimper and I saw him, under his blanket in the corner of the room.

     "Oh," I whispered, "you scared me."

     The four year old looked at me, terrified.  Souji walked to the bed.  "He's wet the bed," my husband said, "I'll get the sheets.  Why don't you change his clothes?"

     I nodded, and walked toward my nephew.  "Souichiro," I started softly, but the boy was pressing his little body to the wall.  He was white with terror, so tiny and afraid.  He reminded me of when Hiroshi and Jun were younger and would climb into my bed after nightmares, and during loud storms like this one.

     I reached out my hand, trying to ignore how he winced away from me.  Gently, gingerly, I ran my hand over his soft black hair.  "It's okay," I told him, afraid to raise my voice above a whisper, "it's okay, sweetheart. I have new clothes for you."

     He watched me with mild confusion as I gently buttoned him into Souji's night shirt.  "It's so big on you, isn't it," I said, keeping my voice light.  I touched the long sleeves hanging over his little hands.  "Someday I bet you'll be able to fit into shirts this big, though."

     Souichiro rubbed his eyes with his fist, looking at me warily.  Souji appeared in the doorway, and held out a hand to the little boy.  "This storm is pretty loud, isn't it, Souichiro?" he said.  "You know Aunt Shizune is very scared of storms. Aren't you, dear?"     

     I nodded at Souichiro, and the look of confusion in his eyes compounded.  "Why don't you come keep me company tonight?  You and Uncle Souji can watch over me."  Souichiro didn't acknowledge my question, but he followed Souji to be tucked into our bed. 

     I changed the sheets to the guest bed, then picked up the blanket my little nephew had left on the floor of the room.  I picked it up and folded it, leaving on the foot of the bed.

     When I arrived at our room, Souichiro was already fast asleep. Souji was sitting beside him, watching over him like father.  My throat tightened.

     "Don't give him back, Souji," I said, the strangled words out of my mouth before I had to think about what they might mean.  "Let him stay with us."

     Souji met my eyes and nodded slowly.  "I don't want my brother's son in a children's home."

     Words escaped without thought again. "Don't keep him for Reiji," I said darkly, "not for the sake of that horrible—did you see what- Souichiro-" 

     "He looks just like Reiji looked at that age," Souji smoothly cut off my enraged stammering.  "He used to come into my room, to play with my fire trucks.  He had his own toys, but he loved those fire trucks.  I used to let him be the yellow one, because I liked red."

     I fell silent, realizing that just like me, Souji had long since lost his little brother.  Not to food poisoning, but to a different kind of poisoning. Perhaps that made[AK1] [AK1]Perhaps that made the loss all that more painful.

     Struck with what Souji and I suddenly had in common, I sat at his side and took his warm hand in my cold one.  Together we watched Souichiro sleep.

~~

     The storm left had left, leaving behind a sparkling blue sky and pleasant, cool weather.  The neighborhood children were running to and fro while shouting happily in the streets.  We had a nice backyard, and Souji asked Souichiro if he'd like a swing to play in.  The little boy didn't answer, but looked at us with awed confusion.  At least he wasn't wary around us anymore.

     I was preparing dinner early one afternoon, taking the vegetables I had bought at the market and putting them in piles to be cut up, when Souichiro wandered into the kitchen. He watched me seriously for a few moments.  I smiled at him, and winked.

     "What's your favorite food, Souichiro? Do you have one? I'll make it for you."

     He didn't answer, his eyes studying the vegetables, and me, and the sun streaming into the room.

     The sun made me happy, and I began to hum a song that Jun and Hiroshi had liked to hear, about frogs in the river.  I turned toward the oven and started to boil the water, mixing in soup base.  I turned toward the table again and froze in surprise.

     Little Souichiro was carefully sorting the vegetables just as I had been, carrots in the same pile, sprouts in the another, tubor root in another.  Souichiro wasn't smiling, but his mouth was stretched in concentration, and he looked very cute.  He must have felt my gaze, because he looked up and blinked at me.  He watched me for a moment, a little worried.  A delighted smile spread easily across my face.

     "Thank you, Souichiro," I said, "that was a big help!"

     He accepted my thanks with a solemn nod, and I noticed how light his eyes were colored.  They were almost gray, in fact.  "You deserve a treat for being such a big help in the kitchen."  I handed him a rice cracker from the cupboard.  He munched on it contentedly as I began to cut the vegetables, singing the song softly as I did so.

     I felt surprised when I heard the little boy begin to hum tunelessly along with me, and dared not react except to keep singing. I flicked my eyes to him once or twice, but he kept his face completely stoic.  I simply smiled to myself.

     When the soup was simmering on the stove, I turned to my nephew and knelt by him.  "Souichiro-chan," I asked, "can I have a hug?"  I help out my arms and he regarded me uncertainly.  He took a few steps closer, and I gently wrapped my arms around him.  In a few moments, he seemed to understand the concept, and little arms embraced my shoulders for a few moments before letting go.  

     "I am really fond of you, Souichiro-chan," I told him.  He solemnly nodded again.

~~

     A few months later, I was tucking Souichiro into bed after telling him a story I remembered my mother telling me, when he asked me if I was his "mom". 

I paused, and looked at him, at a loss.  Souji and I had already decided we would adopt Souichiro, and it was wonderful having a child around the house.  We were happy, and Souichiro was much healthier and happier since he came to stay with us than he was that night at the police station.  But,… mother?  Was I ready to be considered a "mom", after I had long since become used to the idea of never being addressed that way?

"Well," I stalled a moment, before saying, "Well, what do you think a 'mom' is?"

Souichiro was silent, his gray eyes turning inward for a few moments, and coming dangerously close to tears.

"Someone who takes care of you, right?" I said quickly, "Sings to you, reads to you, feeds you, keeps you warm.  All those things, right?"

Souichiro nodded, looking at me again.  "Yes," he answered me.  He didn't repeat his question.

"Good night, Souichiro," I said, kissing his forehead.

"Good night, mom," he answered me.  I managed a smile as I closed the door behind me.

I shut my eyes against the burning, and realized I didn't have a choice as to whether or not I was ready to be a mother.  To him, I was.  It seemed too rushed without the time to watch a baby grow inside you, to set up a nursery, to watch the first step, the first word—even naming him. After all these years, wasn't this too much, too fast?

I walked into the living room, staring out the huge bay window until Souji walked out of his study.  He looked at me for a moment.  "Hello, Shizune."

Again, words left my mouth and became reality before my mind could catch up to my heart.  "Why don't you go say goodnight to our son, Souji, before he falls asleep?"

~~

     I cried like a baby after Souichiro first went to kindergarten, looking so proud with his little bunny name-tag and lunch box.  I prayed the kids would like him, I hoped he would do well, I wondered if I should call the teacher and make sure my son was doing okay his first big day away from home.

     I called Souji at work, and asked if he thought I should go down the school just to see how Souichiro was doing.  

     "Don't be silly, Shizune.  He's six years old; he's fine.  He'll love school."

     "But still, Souji-"

     "Shizune," he was clearly amused, "I have work to do."

     I felt like a fool to have worried when Souichiro came home, perfectly fine.  "How was school?" I asked him as I set out a glass of apple juice for him.

     He took the glass in both hands and drank a sip before answering.  "School was fine.  Especially when Daddy came by to see me."

     "Daddy came?"

     "Yeah, he said he wanted to make sure I was okay.  The teacher was so surprised!"

     When Souji came home I greeted him with dinner and an incredibly smug look that must have given me away.  "So 'Don't be silly, Shizune. He's six years old, he's fine', huh?"

     "I told him not to say anything," Souji said, throwing his hands up in the air.

~~

     Kindergarten.. then elementary school, middle school, and now high school. Every year Souichiro's teachers would fall over themselves to tell me what a bright son I had, how he was a natural leader, amazing at English, destined for wonderful things.  It was almost too much to hear, and I'd want to interrupt them by saying, "Oh, but you should see his room!" or "But try getting him to help with the dishes!" but I couldn't.  Because Souichiro's room was neat as a pin, and he helped around the house without even being asked.  

     Every day he grew more and more into his features, delicate yet masculine, like Reiji.  So much like his biological father, in fact, that I couldn't help but wonder how Souji felt about seeing a carbon copy of his missing brother every time he saw his son.  But I didn't care who Souichiro resembled, and I wished with all my heart I could take away the horrible things that were said about him at the Arima reunions.  Souichiro was kind, loving and polite.  The perfect son.

     I could hardly believe it when Souichiro came downstairs in his new dark blue high school uniform.

     "You look great, Souichiro," Souji said, "very grown-up!"

     I just shook my head, my eyes filling with tears.

     "Oh, Mom," Souichiro said, brushing his hair back with his hand, "Don't start to cry on me!"

     "But I'm just so proud!  Being class speaker at commencement, having the highest entrance exam score…"  I let myself gush and I knew Souji was rolling his eyes at me.  Poor Souichiro looked like a dear in headlights; he never could handle praise well.

     "Stop, please," he forced a laugh, "you'll make me nervous."

     "Alright, alright," I said.  "You are going to walk to school with Tsubasa-san's friends right?"

     My son's best friend had recently been in a sort of a skating accident, and was cooped up at the hospital with a broken leg.  But their mutual friends were all going to the same high school.

     Souichiro looked a little uncomfortable, "Nah, they are more her friends then mine.  I'm going to walk alone."

     "You sure? I could drive you-"

     "Good bye, Mom," he said pleasantly, and waved before closing the front door behind him.

     "Oh, Souji!" I wailed, pouring myself fully into my mothering antics, hiding my smile behind my yes.  Souji, however, saw right through me, and gave me a smile.

     "Oh, hush," he said.

~End Part II

*yen. Relax.

Okay, now that you've read it: please review!

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